


Layers of Shadow

by Jenshih_Blue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode: s02e14 Born Under a Bad Sign, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenshih_Blue/pseuds/Jenshih_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes all it takes is the coming of evil to see the shadows that curl around us in layers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Layers of Shadow

Sam didn’t tell Dean he remembered most of what happened when the demon possessed him. Mainly it was because it scared the fuck all out of him. He’d heard Meg’s description of her hell and it had lasted a year, he imagined had Dean and Bobby been unable to free him when they did he would have went mad, slipped over the jagged cliffs of insanity. How Meg had managed to stay sane was beyond him and there was a part of him that believed they’d done her a favor by releasing her and letting her finally die as a broken woman.

That thought, as simple and understandable as it might be, caused his stomach to clench and twist in on it’s self. The idea of allowing an innocent to die had never been an option for Sam. For him there had been a distinction between the monsters and humans. For him there were no shades of gray, but after Lenore, those distinctions had become harder to make. Each one smudged around the edges, layers of shadows.

His head ached with it all and he wished he could just make it stop, step away from his body, and away from the physical, even the emotional pain. He’d believed nothing could touch him as deep as Jessica’s death, but then one year later, he’d lost his father, the father he’d fought with almost his entire life. The same father he believed hated him for what he wanted to become, something other than the hunter his father had raised him to be. Just as he’d begun to understand his father loved him in the only way he knew how, he’d lost him.

“Sammy?”

He turned away from the smear of the speeding landscape beyond the window to focus on Dean’s profile. The damage inflicted on his brother lay hidden in the flickering shadows across his skin. Gorge rose in his throat as he recalled the demon’s soft voice whispering to him through the shadows he‘d been trapped in.

_

Killed by his own brother. Beaten down and emotionally fucked. What do you think about that, Sam?

_

There had been frigidness to that voice and Sam couldn’t help laughing because he’d always thought hell was fire, heat, and sulfur.

Dean gave him a quick sidelong glance as he chuckled beneath his breath. “You okay, man?”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalled having this conversation and he shook his head, trying to clear away the finely woven strands of spider silk from his thoughts. “Yeah, I’m cool.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Dean slipped one hand from the steering wheel, to rest on his thigh. As he did the car speed up with a roar, tearing up the road. He glanced from where Dean’s fingers tapped out a rhythm against the worn denim stretched over the muscle of his thigh.

“Dean?” The fear rose back up in his throat, coating his tongue with a bitter flavor, one of gall and ash. “Are you okay?”

The corner of his brother’s full lips, twitched. “You begged me to kill you.” There was no emotion in Dean’s voice as the words tumbled out filling the silent car. “You picked up the gun and you handed it to me, wrapped my fingers against the cold metal, and asked me to do it.”

“It wasn’t me, Dean.” Sam’s voice cracked, lowered to a raspy whisper. “I would never…”

Dean sighed. “Never say never, Sammy. You don’t know what you would or wouldn’t do.”

Anger rose from the pit of his knotted stomach at Dean’s words. “Yes, I do.” He hissed between clenched teeth. “I would never do that to you, Dean. I’d do it myself before I asked you, too.”

Eyes focused on the racing blackness, pinpointed in the Impala’s headlights, Dean shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does, Dean.” Not for one moment could he believe they were having this same conversation, he’d thought everything was cool after Dean’s lame ass joke.

Running shaking hands through his hair, Sam realized something was wrong. His gaze shifted to the odometer and he could see the needle rising--80, 90, 100. His breath caught in his throat and he knew that this was it. Dean had shattered, his brother had decided to end it here and now and the thought scared Sam worse than anything else. He’d just pulled Dean back from the edge of darkness it couldn’t end like this.

“Dean, please slow down.” His lips trembled as Dean’s gaze drifted from the winding asphalt to his face. There was nothing but emptiness in Dean’s shimmering eyes. “Oh, God…” Sam whispered. “Dean, stop the car. Stop it now.”

“No.” Dean turned away, his foot pressing harder on the gas, the odometer’s needle jumping.

Eyes darting upward Sam saw the headlights of semi growing larger as Dean twisted the wheel, the Impala’s tires shrieking, and the scent of burning rubber drifting through the window as he changed lanes. Sam darted across the seat, hands grasping the wheel and fighting in desperation to pull them back into the correct lane. He could hear the semi’s horn blaring, and the lights were so close he felt he could have reached out, fingertips grazing the cold light.

Then there was fire.

Fire was everywhere, but there was no pain.

***

Sam startled awake, sweat dripping down his face, lungs impossibly tight as he fought to catch his breath. The taste of heat and the coppery tang of blood filled his mouth as he tried to reconcile the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass to the silent shadows of the motel room.

Finally, he managed to get a decent breath of air in his aching lungs, and he licked his lips, tasting blood. Lifting one hand, he ran his fingertips along his lip and realized in his panic he’d bitten through his lip. His gaze darted to the other bed where Dean lay sleeping, one arm curled beneath the pillow, the other dangling from beneath the blankets and over the edge of the mattress. The shadows blurred, as he sat there trying to tuck away the nightmare, forget it, but it refused to leave.

His fingers trailed down to settle on the protective amulet that Bobby had given to him. The taste of salt joined the copper, thinning it out, as he pushed back the blankets. Swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, he began shivering uncontrollably, images from the dream flickering against the red tinted shadow of the back of his eyelids. His gaze shifted back to where Dean lay sleeping, exhausted from the cluster fuck of the past two weeks. When they’d left Bobby’s place they’d both been exhausted so they’d only driven for a couple of hours before pulling over at the nearest no-tell motel to get some uninterrupted sleep. How Dean could sleep Sam couldn't even begin to understand, but he couldn’t sleep no matter how much he wanted to.

Standing he moved across the short space separating them and sat down on the edge of Dean’s bed. His heart was still racing and for the life of him, he couldn’t stop the tears in his eyes. He sniffed, reaching out to stroke his fingers along Dean’s cheek. Before he could even touch Dean, his brother’s eyes opened meeting his with a curious light.

“Sammy, what is it?” Dean’s voice was raspy with sleep although his eyes were clear and sharp. “Nightmare?”

Sam swallowed hard, his head bobbing. “Yeah.”

Shifting onto his side, Dean lifted the blankets, and offered Sam a sleepy smile. “Come on.”

Releasing a soft breath, Sam slipped beneath the blankets; the two of them shifting until they were comfortable, and Dean lowered the blankets. Dean wrapped one arm protectively around Sam, pulling him closer, as Sam lowered his head on Dean’s chest. The silence settled over them as he closed his eyes inhaling Dean's scent, the scent he considered home--cheap motel soap, spicy aftershave, and a hint of leather that always seemed to linger. Beneath his cheek, he could hear the steady rhythm of Dean’s heart and as he began to relax, his breathing synchronized with that rhythm.

“So, you going to tell me about the nightmare?”

“No.” Sam whispered his voice cracking.

Dean hummed thoughtfully, chest vibrating. “Look, Sammy…I know it wasn’t you. I do.”

Snuffling, Sam sighed. “I know. I just…”

Before he could finish, Dean shifted up on one elbow, grasping his chin and urged his gaze upward. “There isn’t any ‘just’, Sammy.” Then he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against Sam’s. It was just a ghost of a kiss, but Dean had a way of putting so much into the simplest action. He drew back, eyes shining in the shadows. “I’m still here…I’m not leaving you.”

Sam swallowed hard, fighting the emotion closing up his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Laughing, Dean brushed his fingers through Sam’s tousled hair. “Got nothing to be sorry for, man. We both pulled through this…we always do.”

“Make me a promise.” Sam searched Dean’s face for the one twitch that would tell him he’d crossed a line. “Promise me no matter what happens you won’t give up.” The image of Dean’s empty eyes in the nightmare flickered through his mind. “Promise me, you’ll see this through.”

Dean frowned. “You know I will, Sammy.”

Eyes burning, Sam shook his head. “Just promise me.”

Inhaling deep, Dean’s eyes focused on Sam‘s face. “I promise.”

Every muscle in Sam’s body relaxed at Dean’s soft words. “Thank you.”

He leaned in kissing Dean as his brother’s fingers tightened in his hair. After everything they’d been through this was the one thing that kept him going. Knowing Dean was there always to protect him not just from the layers of shadows that filled their lives, but from himself as well. There had been doubts after the demon had fled his body, but here, wrapped in Dean’s arms, and tasting him, the doubts fled much as spirits did from the bite of salt.

Pulling back from the kiss with a gasp, Dean studied his face, concern shimmering in his eyes. “You okay, Sammy?”

What could he say? There were no words that could express how he felt, lying here, surrounded by the only thing that had ever really meant home. The one thing he’d been terrified of losing when he’d been trapped inside his body, unable to warn his brother about the demon’s plan.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “As long as you’re here.” Lifting one hand he cupped his brother's jaw, thumb caressing over the swell of his lower lip. “Can’t do this without you, man. I need this…us.”

Dean smiled, teeth nipping at Sam’s thumb playfully. The light of his smile chasing away the shadows, layer by layer. “You got me, dude.”

Eyes shining, Sam pushed Dean back, and devoured his mouth in a desperate clash of teeth, tongues curling and dancing together. When Sam finally pulled back, both of them panting for much needed air, he offered Dean a gift only he could, a smile so bright what remained of the shadows fled.

His words were soft, as his hand slid beneath the worn cotton of his brother‘s tee shirt. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, bro’.”

~Finis~


End file.
